A Hundred & Eighty Degrees
by sapphiccharmer
Summary: AU. Rich and powerful Santana Lopez acquires a blonde slave. She struggles with keeping her emotions in check while enduring a roller coaster ride of trust. Girl!Peen/G!P Brittana. Please read warnings inside.
1. Rescued

**A/N: This story was inspired by a friend of mine's story, You're Mine, by Gleehipster. All the credit for inspiring me to write a master/slave story goes to her. It's a similar setting, but will be approached very differently, and obviously with a much different plot. Also, her story rules, so you all should read it. **

**Warning: This is going to get quite dark in some chapters. It involves various forms of abuse, both physical and sexual. I will warn you all when I feel it's necessary.**

**Thanks to my amazing friend and beta Jess for taking on this story!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or the characters.**

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><p>"Lopez, forget something?"<p>

Santana turned her head to Puck who tossed over her car keys. She raised her arm and caught them with ease. "Thanks Puck."

"Shotgun!" Came soft, sweet voice from behind them.

Before Puck knew it, the beautiful blonde was skipping past him and plopped herself into the front seat. "What the fuck? How come I always get the backseat?"

"Oh, you don't like it? Could'a fooled me, you spend most of your time back there." Quinn spat from the front, sarcasm dripping from her words. Santana threw her head back with laughter as she turned on the car and Puck leaned back and crossed his arms, grumbling in defeat. A minute later they began their long drive into the city to celebrate Santana's 21st birthday.

Santana Lopez was the heiress of a very rich empire her great-grandfather built from the ground up. It began as honest work, but as the generations went by, the businesses became more of the black-market type, dipping their fingers into a lot of illegal trades and deals of various sorts. It made three times the money, but made three times the enemies. Noah [Puck] Puckerman and Quinn Fabray were children of two of Mr. Lopez's best businessmen and closest friends. While they did not hold the same political power as the Lopez family, they were certainly wealthy enough to hold some degree of status.

The three had been best friends since they were young. Santana was always the ring leader of the group, bossing the other two around, mimicking her father's need to maintain authority amongst anyone and everyone. Puck was a little terror child, always getting into trouble. Having two girls as best friends made him feel the need to prove himself one way or another, so he never backed down from a dare and was constantly trying to be "brave". Santana, being as smart as a whip since she could talk, took advantage of this and often told Puck that being "brave" required him to let the air out of someones tires or steal someones wallet. He even swallowed a thumb tack once, and he's pretty sure it's still in there. Basically, she was able to convince him to do whatever she wanted, including the dirty work. Quinn, on the other hand, was a rather quiet child. She wasn't naturally very mean, but her parents taught her how to wrap just about anyone around her finger and milk them for all its worth. She had a gentle soul, however it could turn to ice in a second if you crossed her. But for the most part, she was the most level-headed of the three, and had to remind the other two on a regular basis how stupid their ideas and decisions were.

Santana and Puck often fought for dominance, but just like when they were kids, Santana would always outsmart Puck. This frustrated him to no degree and Santana enjoyed every minute of it. Nonetheless, they were all loyal to each other no matter what. Even when they found out about Santana's "something extra", they remained by her side.

Santana pursed her lips as she recalled the memory.

_It was Puck's 12th birthday party when he invited the girls over to swim in the brand new pool his parents installed in the backyard of the Puckerman mansion as a present. Santana came in swim trunks and a t-shirt, since wearing a girl's bikini was just out of the question. Quinn dove in the pool first and swam around with poise. Santana had never swam in front of anyone but her parents before, and she was scared that her friends might realize something wasn't quite right. She stood at the edge of the pool in thought, pretty unsure of what to do._

_"Well?" Quinn said, eyeing Santana with her hand trying to block the sun. "What are you waiting for?"_

_"Uh…I…well…" Santana stumbled over her words, trying to come up with a believable excuse not to swim._

_"She's a pussy! She probably doesn't even know how to swim." Puck teased, walking out from the sliding glass doors from his kitchen._

_"Do to! I just don't wanna." She knew her retort wasn't going to satisfy them, but it was all she could come up with._

_Quinn stared at her for another minute and cocked her head to the side. "Why are you wearing boys swim shorts?"_

_Santana felt her face burn at the question. She didn't exactly see it coming. She was searching for a good excuse, when at that moment, Puck ran at her from behind to jump in the pool, skillfully pants-ing her in the process. The swim trunks fell around her ankles, leaving Santana completely exposed. Quinn's eyes went wide as she covered her mouth in disbelief and when Puck emerged from underwater, he stood next to Quinn with his mouth agape. All Santana could think of to do was cover her package with her hands._

_Puck pointed slowly at her. "Was that…."_

_Quinn nodded slowly as if to answer for her. Santana then reached down and quickly pulled her shorts back up._

_"I thought you were a girl?" He asked, finally snapping out of his shock._

_"I AM a girl! It's just…I just…" Santana didn't know what to say. She knew her friends must hate her now. She was strange…different than everyone else. Santana sat down in defeat and put her head in her hands. Tears started streaming down her face from frustration and anger. Why did she have to be different?_

_Quinn, finally coming to her senses, jumped out of the pool and scurried to her friend's side, sat down and put her arm around a helpless Santana. "Shhh it's okay, S. Don't cry. There's nothing wrong with you." Quinn had always been more mature than her age._

_Santana looked up at this in disbelief. "Don't lie, Quinn. I'm weird and gross."_

_Quinn smiled and shook her head. "No you're not. I think you're beautiful." Her tone was warm and genuine._

_Tears stopped and brown eyes became hopeful. "Really? So…you're still my friend?"_

_"Well, duh." The girls sat there for a few moments. Santana had relaxed considerably, and Quinn was absorbing the news. "So…do you like girls or boys?"_

_The sudden question baffled Santana. Sure, she'd thought about it before, but she wasn't expecting to actually talk about it. "Uh…I don't know…"_

_"Well, if you had to kiss me or Noah, who would you choose?"_

_Santana made a disgusted face at both ideas. Quinn was like her sister, and even though she was pretty, that would just be weird. And Puck was just…gross. But she knew this question was purely for research purposes. "Well, I mean if I had to…then I choose you, I guess."_

_"Why?"_

_Santana thought carefully before she continued. "Um, well, you're pretty, and you smell good. And Puck's gross. He's just…"_

_"A boy," Quinn answered._

_"Yeah."_

_Quinn smiled. "Alright then, so you like girls." Santana just shrugged in agreement._

_Puck busted out laughing a few yards away, still standing in the pool. "So you have a wiener AND you like chicks? Holy shit San, that's just perfect. What next? Tighty-whitey shopping?" He tried not to fall over as he clutched his stomach, laughing uncontrollably. Santana began fuming at his stupid comment and within seconds, she got up and dove head first at him, tackling him under water._

Not much changed as they grew, except that Quinn got hotter (yet at the same time colder), Puck got sleazier, and Santana got angrier. Different habits developed in each one. Quinn was still warm and loving with the people she cared for, but learned how to be cold, unforgiving, and downright heartless to the people she didn't. All Puck thought about every minute of his life was sex, and that combined with power taught him that he could take it whenever he wanted…consensual or not. Santana's father was home less and less, and in turn she became more and more bitter, developing severe anger problems and mood swings. She learned to do whatever it took to get what she wanted, even if that meant using aggressive threats and physical force. Luckily though, she had Puck and Quinn, whom she knew she could confide in regardless.

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><p>When the trio arrived in the city, they parked the car and continued their journey on foot. Santana's 21st birthday was relatively meaningless, so they didn't have much planned. The best part about it was that Santana made the night a driver and bodyguard free night; she rarely got complete freedom from her estate's protection. They decided on hitting the casino first. Quinn and Santana weren't all that into gambling, so they didn't stay too long. Puck and Santana sat at a card table and played a few hands while Quinn stood behind them and watched. After several hands, Santana and Quinn were ready to leave and all but literally dragged Puck out before he got too crazy.<p>

They left the casino and thought about their next move. "How about we buy you a dance?" Puck suggested with that nasty smirk on his face. Santana laughed and high-fived him while Quinn just rolled her eyes playfully and followed the two to a high end strip club.

The three sat in a booth admiring the topless girls doing their routines on the poles around the stage. The room was fairly dark, mostly lit by blue lighting around the stage and some on the ceiling. Santana liked this place because it was filled with mostly very rich businessmen instead of your every day working class sleaze ball who spent more time hitting on her then watching the strippers. And though the businessmen weren't really any less disgusting and she awkwardly recognized half of them, it was still fairly mellow and most of all, discreet.

"Hey, weren't you supposed to get yourself a hot, two-legged toy while we were in town?" Puck asked with a grin, nudging Santana.

"Yeah, we'll pop over to the trade when we're finished here, see if they have anything that doesn't look completely damaged. It's right next to this building anyway."

They spent the next couple hours buying drinks and dances from several different women. Eventually Puck got distracted trying to charm some stripper by the stage, leaving the girls to themselves.

Santana stood. "I'm going out for a smoke. Coming?"

Quinn nodded and followed her out the front door. They walked a couple feet to stand by the corner of the building. Santana pulled her carton of cigarettes and lighter out from her leather jacket pocket and popped one in her mouth, lighting it, then offered one to Quinn and lit hers too.

Quinn blew smoke towards the night sky. "So do you know what you want to buy?"

Santana mimicked Quinn's actions and shook her head. "Not really. I've been there a few times the past couple of months and there wasn't really anything good. Schuester keeps promising me he'll have something good for me but I've yet to see it. Didn't you just get a new girl?"

"Yeah, my parents bought her for me a few weeks ago. Rachel is her name."

"She any good?" Santana smirked.

"Don't know yet."

"What? Why the hell not?"

Quinn shrugged. She didn't really want to answer the question. Santana would never let it go if she found out that she was getting emotionally attached to her personal slave.

Suddenly the girls heard a heavy door slam around the corner accompanied by muffled screams. The sound of shuffling indicated a struggle, which piqued Santana's interest. The girls leaned around the corner to investigate a little further. Santana saw a large man whom she immediately recognized has Hugo Kelly, a long time enemy of her family and an all-around assbag. He was struggling with a tall, blonde girl who's arms were bound behind her back and tape across her mouth. She watched as Hugo yelled at Schuester through the door about selling him a disobedient girl and he wanted to return her, but he quickly gave up. Santana examined the girl from afar. She was the most beautiful girl she had ever laid eyes on. She was dirty and malnourished, but beautiful nonetheless. Hugo struck the girl several times, trying to get her to stop thrashing about. Tears were streaming down the girl's face as he finally picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, carrying her in the opposite direction. Crying, the girl looked up and brown eyes locked with blue. There was something about those eyes that seemed...familiar? No, that's crazy. She couldn't have seen this girl before, right? She shook the thought. Regardless, the girl was intriguing. It was then that Santana acted on impulse. She didn't know why, but an overwhelming feeling rushed over her and she wanted that girl for herself. She was going to have her.

Santana threw down her cigarette and marched towards Hugo and the girl, fists clenched. Quinn's eyes went wide and she ran back inside the strip club.

"PUCK!"

Puck knew that tone. His smirk fell and he rushed out the door with Quinn and ran out to the scene.

"Hugo!" Santana shouted, catching the man off guard. He dropped the girl and held her firmly by the arm as he turned to face Santana.

"Well well, if it isn't the Lopez girl. How can I help you this evening?" He said with fake tone and a smirk that made Santana's stomach churn.

"I want the girl." She demanded as she heard her friend's jogging steps reach her ready to back her up.

Hugo laughed. "What, this girl? No no, she's mine. I'm about to take her home and show her what punishment is all about." His voice made everyone's skin crawl.

The bound blonde's eyes went wide and fresh tears pooled at the brims. Santana briefly glanced at her and back to the ogre standing before her. The girl looked even more familiar up close.

"How much for her?"

"Maybe you didn't hear me, Lopez. The girl is mine." His tone became all too serious and his grip tightened on the girls arm, causing the blonde to wince.

Quinn reached out and tugged on Santana's jacket. "San, come on, it's not worth it. Please."

Santana didn't even bother to spare a glance at her friend as she smacked her arm away. She stepped closer to Hugo, venom spitting from every word. "Listen you over-sized rotten pig, give me the girl or I'll slice one of your balls off and send it back to you in the mail. You should know by now that it's not in your best interest to fuck with a Lopez." She waited for a reaction from him.

A moment went by and he smiled, reaching into his pocket. "Is that so?" Santana heard the *chink* of what she immediately recognized as a switch blade. As soon as Hugo flung his hand out and slashed at the brunette, she turned her body to the side to protect herself. The blade made a clean, diagonal cut across her upper arm and she yelped. Puck had a grip on his own weapon in anticipation for something like this, and threw himself towards the large man, whipping out his .38 revolver and thrusting it to Hugo's temple.

"You wanna play, big guy?" Puck growled. Hugo froze, dropping the knife and releasing the girl, slowly raising his hands in defeat.

The blonde slave, who'd watched this entire exchange in fear and confusion, saw this as the perfect opportunity to escape. She turned on her heel and sprinted down the alley, trying to ignore the pain shooting up into her bare feet from rocks and glass.

Santana noticed it immediately. "Quinn!" She shouted as she gripped the cut on her arm.

Quinn took off down the alley, gaining on the girl without much of a problem. The slave was just too tired and weak to make this escape; clearly she hadn't thought it through. Tears started flowing as she stumbled, knowing this chase was up for her. Within seconds Quinn grabbed the girl and through her up against the brick wall of the building. She'd seen the blonde slave put up quite the struggle earlier and prepared herself for the same, but was surprised when all the girl did was cry harder, sliding down the brick wall into a sitting position. Quinn stood in front of her, momentarily feeling bad for the poor girl. She'd probably had it pretty rough with Hugo. She shook her thoughts, remembering what she was there to do. She grabbed the girl by the arm, making sure it was the opposite arm that Hugo gripped earlier since it was clearly bruised, and pulled her up. The slave allowed herself to be dragged towards the group since it looked like she would be going home with the scary, yet beautiful raven-haired leader. How bad could her new owner possibly be?

The girls walked up as Puck kicked the back of Hugo's legs, dropping him to his knees.

"Fuck with us again and you'll be tasting fucking lead." Puck took his gun and smashed it against the man's head, knocking him out. He then turned towards Santana to inspect her wound. The wound was deep, but it hadn't cut anything dangerous. Puck quickly took off his button up shirt and ripped the bottom of it, creating a make-shift wrap. Santana hissed as he tightly wrapped her arm to stop the bleeding.

"Well it's your own damn fault Santana. You fucking better hope your new property is worth it."

Normally Santana would retort, but she wasn't even sure if it was worth it. Something drew her to the blonde, yes, but to royally piss off one of her family's biggest enemies to get her? She was really beginning to regret her decision. She prayed it wouldn't come back to bite her in the ass.


	2. The Start of Self Control

**A/N: So, I wanted to apologize for the formatting of the last chapter. FanFiction oh so sweetly decided to take away all of my italics and line breaks, leaving the entire document completely plain. I promise I'll be more careful when posting, because formatting can make or break the way a story is executed.**

**I'm also going to take this time to tell you all that I'm going to try an interactive method of writing this story. Yes, I have an outline for it, but I'm also more than willing to consider where my readers think/want this story to go. So have at it! **

**Thank you for all of the reviews and favorites/alerts! You guys are awesome. And of course, a big thanks to my great friend and beta, Jess.**

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><p>The four walked swiftly back to Santana's car and began their journey home. The long ride was silent. Santana gripped the steering wheel a little too tight, anger really starting to set in. She was angry that her night had been ruined. She was angry that she had been cut. She was angry that she was so easily sucked in by the pure looks of a slave, not to mention she was clearly disrespected in front of said slave, who needed to remain fearful of her and right now the slave probably thought of her as her hero, and that just wouldn't do. But most of all, she was angry that because of this girl, she had probably stirred up one of the most dangerous rivalries her family has ever known. Really? All for a worthless fucking slave?<p>

Quinn noticed her fuming and reached her hand out from the passenger's seat to place it on Santana's shoulder. The gesture was obviously unwelcome, since Quinn found her own hand flying back towards her within seconds.

Santana pulled in front of her massive mansion, throwing the car into park. She got out without a word and threw the keys to her guard for him to park the car in their garage. Puck grabbed the slave's arm a little more aggressively than Quinn had and dragged her into the house.

When they got in the house, Santana turned and reached out for her new slave. She was incredibly pissed that this blonde had caused her so much trouble, and she didn't want to waste any time taking out her anger on her present. The girl tried to cower from Santana's reach, but Puck tightened his grip and forced her out in front of him. Then, a loud slap left everyone in the room wide-eyed. Quinn stood in next to Santana with her eyes boring into her friend.

"What the fuck Fabray?" Santana yelled, rubbing the forearm Quinn had smacked away.

Quinn took a step towards Santana and lowered her voice to a deep warning. "Santana, don't do this. Whatever you're thinking, it's not a good idea. Not when you're this pissed off. You need to get yourself cleaned up and go to bed. Leave the girl for now."

Santana was boiling beyond belief that she was disrespected in front of her slave again, and that someone dared to talk to her like that. But there was something about Quinn's cold stare that made Santana think twice. She clenched her fists and without taking her glare off of her friend she screamed for her head servant. "Devyn!"

An older woman with short brown hair came rushing in and bowed. "Yes, Miss?"

"Take the girl and get her cleaned up, fed, and shown to her quarters. She'll be joining our staff as my new personal servant." She demanded with a harsh tone, still not removing her eyes from Quinn's.

The woman nodded and scurried over to the girl, removing her from Puck's grasp and taking her away.

Before she knew it Santana was being led up the stairs to her master bathroom by Quinn. Puck called for a driver to take him home after Quinn reassured him that she could handle Santana from here. They walked into the bathroom and Quinn pointed to the marble counter. "Sit."

Santana sighed and hopped up onto the counter. As much as she wanted to smash Quinn's face, she knew her friend was here to take care of her and she couldn't exactly deny that Quinn may have been right in telling her to leave the girl alone tonight, because who knows how out of hand things could have gotten. She remembered when she was a hormonal teenager and her father got her a personal slave for her 17th birthday. Long story short, the poor slave ended up in the hospital two months later. Her father banned her from having a personal slave until she was old enough and responsible enough to handle one properly, and he decided 21 would be the proper age to lift the ban. Maybe taking her anger out on her helpless new slave the very first night might not be a good idea.

Quinn rummaged around the bathroom, getting out saline and bandages. She placed them on the counted next to where Santana was sitting and walked in front of her, unbuttoning her green blouse. Santana raised an eyebrow.

"Geez Q, you go from slapping me to undressing me in five minutes. I didn't take you for the aggressive type." Santana smirked.

A small smile graced Quinn's face as she shook her head at yet another one of her friend's severe mood swings. It really amazed her how she could be fuming one second and making pervy jokes the next. Quinn didn't respond and simply continued to carefully peel Santana's shirt off, trying to avoid the painful cut. Once Santana was sitting in her bra, Quinn wet a washcloth and gently dabbed the wound, cleaning the surface of it and wiping the dry blood threatening to stain her skin. She followed with the saline to sterilize it.

Santana squeezed her eyes shut in pain. "Ouch, fuck Q! That fucking hurts!"

"Well maybe if you weren't such a damn baby and you'd stop squirming then this would have been over by now."

Quinn finished cleaning the cut and wrapped it in gauze. She then reached around to unsnap Santana's bra, but Santana stopped her. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Helping you change, S. You're not gonna be able to do it by yourself. Besides, it's nothing I haven't seen before."

"Fuck you, I can do it myself."

Quinn stood back and put her hands on her hips. "Okay then, let's see it."

Santana struggled for a moment and tried to reach her injured arm around to her snap, but it made the wound shift. "Ow! Fuck!"

"That's what I thought. Now let me do it."

"Fine." Santana mumbled. Quinn suppressed a giggle at her friend's still childlike antics and proceeded to take her bra off, then carefully weave a white wife-beater over the bandage and up and around Santana's head.

"See? That wasn't so bad." Quinn said, smiling.

"Whatever. I can do the rest."

"Good, because I wasn't going to. I'm heading to bed. Goodnight Santana, and Happy Birthday." Quinn walked towards the bathroom door.

"Hey Q?"

She stopped and turned around. "Yeah?"

"Thanks."

Quinn smiled again and nodded. She then disappeared from the doorway, leaving Santana to fend for herself.

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><p>Devyn led the still bound girl through the grand hallways of the Lopez mansion towards the servant's quarters. The girl was in awe at all of the intricate paintings and sculptures lining the walls. The floor was a beautiful, sparkling maroon marble which contrasted the lighter gray, almost silver painted walls. The ceilings were incredibly high with small chandeliers hanging effortlessly from them. This place was much nicer than Hugo Kelly's place, and from the looks of the servant walking next to her, they were treated a lot better, too.<p>

Though the servant's quarters weren't as nice as the rest of the house, it was still way better than her last setup. There were two separate rooms stacked with several bunks, a large bathroom, and a door that led them to the back of the house kitchen. Devyn led the girl to the center of the room where she proceeded to untie the blonde girl's hands and finally peel the tape from her extremely chapped mouth. Before any words could be said, the blonde all but collapsed into the older woman's arms, sobbing desperately into her shoulder. Though she was slightly taken aback by the sudden outburst, Devyn wrapped her arms around the girl and gently patted her head. She tried to come up with comforting words for the poor girl, but images of the last personal slave Santana brought home flashed in her mind and she was doubtful that this case would turn out any better. Sure, Santana had grown, but her anger problems have only gotten worse. But still, she couldn't leave the girl with no hope right off the bat.

"Shh, everything will be fine, you'll see." And she hoped to god she wasn't lying. "What's your name, child?"

The blonde lifted her head off the woman's shoulder, revealing her dirty, tear streaked face. "B-Brittany," she responded with a sniffle.

"Okay, Brittany, well don't you worry. We'll get you new clothes and something to eat. Is that alright?"

Brittany nodded weakly.

Devyn helped the blonde get undressed. It wasn't until then that the older woman saw how abused this girl really was. She had bruises up and down both arms, scabbed marks that looked like lashes across her back, and her ribcage could be seen clearly around her chest and back. Devyn wanted to question Brittany's horrible condition, but she didn't want to risk growing an attachment to this girl in case she didn't last long in Santana's care.

Devyn tossed her some old sleepwear to put on, and promptly threw away Brittany's old blood and dirt stained outfit. She briefly showed her the bunk she'll be sleeping in before leading her into the kitchen. Though it was around 2 in the morning, a tall Asian chef was actively cleaning the kitchen.

"Brittany, this is Mike, the estate's cook. He can get you whatever you want to eat. Normally we have set times to eat during the day, but late at night we're allowed in the kitchen to snack if we're still hungry."

"Mike, this is Brittany. Santana's new personal servant," Devyn said, her voice wavering slightly.

Mike shot Devyn a quick, knowing glance but smiled. "Hey there, Brittany. Is there anything I can get you?"

Brittany thought for a second. She didn't know what to do…food was almost foreign to her. "Anything, please."

"Okay then, 'anything' coming right up," Mike laughed.

As Brittany ate for the first time in what seemed like weeks, Devyn explained the way of life at the Lopez estate. "The Lopez mansion is owned by Juan Lopez, Santana's father. He's away at business deals most of the time, so Santana is the head of the house. There are over a hundred people working here throughout the day, but very few actually live here. The bunks you saw belong to a few other important servants to Santana, and the room next to it houses some of the Lopez's personal guards. Each of us has a different day off. I have Monday off and Mike here has Thursday off. Santana will assign you yours when she meets with you for the first time. While most of the workers here get paid with money, we get paid with hospitality. This is our home. As long as we do our job and don't disrespect Ms. Lopez, we have full usage of just about everything on the property. However we are never to leave the estate."

"What do I do?" Brittany asked shyly.

"Your job here is to serve Santana's every need, regardless of request." She clearly emphasized the last portion, making Brittany's stomach churn. "You are to be there when she rises in the morning, and don't leave her side until she dismisses you, or she leaves the estate. Always greet her and leave her with a bow. Punishment for disrespect depends on what you've done and Santana's mood at the time. She can get very…temperamental, so it's best to do as you're told."

Brittany kept her gaze straight ahead, processing all of the information about her new home. She'd seen the way Santana had acted earlier that night, and while the setup at the Lopez estate sounded nice enough, she wasn't looking forward to being personal slave, whatever that meant here. Brittany also had a strong feeling that there was something these people weren't telling her.

But the blonde was too exhausted to question anything else right now. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd slept. She finally nodded and got up from the table.

"May I go back to my bed now?" Brittany questioned quietly.

Devyn nodded and got up as well. But as Brittany started towards the door, her knees buckled and her body went slack. The blonde hit the ground and laid motionless. Devyn yelled for Mike to retrieve the number for the Lopez doctor as she made sure Brittany was still breathing.

Minutes later, Santana rushed into the kitchen with Mike close behind. When Devyn spotted her master, she quickly got up and bowed.

"What happened?" Santana asked, looking from Brittany to her head servant.

"I don't know, Miss. She just collapsed. She needs a doctor."

"Okay, Mike, lift her and carry her to her bed. I'll send for the doctor."

About 30 minutes later, Santana stood outside the door to the servant's quarters with the doctor.

"What's wrong with her?" Her tone was demanding but somewhat worried.

"She's in extremely poor condition, Ms. Lopez. Her body is shutting down and from the looks of it, she hasn't eaten or slept in quite some time. She needs a while to rest, and she'll need to be on constant watch for a few days while she recovers."

Santana nodded and looked back into the room with the now stabilized blonde. The girl was giving her way more trouble than she anticipated.

When the doctor left, she called for Devyn. "You're on duty to watch…"

"Brittany." Devyn filled in.

"Right. Brittany. Watch her for a few days, make sure she's getting enough to eat. I can't have her collapsing again and causing any more disruptions in this house." Santana said with a firm tone, and swiftly turned on her heel to retreat into her quarters.


	3. Thrown into the Fire

**A/N: Sorry this took so long. It was a weird chapter. Though it's been 2 weeks since the last update, chapters 1 and 2 were published very close to one another, so in retrospect, it's been 3 chapters in 3 weeks. Not too bad. Anyway, thanks for reading. It'll pick pace of the story up here in the next few chapters, I promise. **

**As always, thanks to Jess for being an awesome beta!**

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><p>Brittany's mind haunted her that night. It reminded her of where she'd been staying for the past while. The dark house she lived in, the rough hands that handled her, and the cold floors she cried herself to sleep on. Images of screaming and lashing flooded her thoughts. She could still feel her skin splitting as the man whipped her ruthlessly. The cold, wet concrete of her room became almost comforting against her cheek because that's when she knew it was over. She just couldn't escape the feel of large, calloused hands holding her down by her arms and throat as she struggled against his heavy body almost every night. Nights that he didn't drag her into his quarters she sat in a corner, waiting. Her body trembled and her bloodshot eyes stared into the abyss as she awaited his arrival. Those nights were almost the worst of them all, because the anticipation and fear kept her from sleeping.<p>

She felt pressure again. Pressure on her arms and legs. She began thrashing, almost instinctively, to try and free herself. It had become routine. She felt something escape her throat as she struggled - she guessed it was a scream. She'd stopped hearing them long ago, so these days she was never quite sure. She heard a voice. That was odd, usually the only sounds she ever heard was laughing or grunting. And she swore it had said her name.

"Brittany."

She heard it again. He never called her by her name. Hell, he didn't even know it.

"Brittany, calm down, please."

The words were soothing and the pressure lifted. She stopped thrashing and slowly opened her eyes. It was bright, way brighter than her old room. Something blurred her vision, and by the wetness she suddenly noticed on her cheeks, she guessed it was tears. After blinking a few times, she carefully looked around for the source of the voice.

"There you are."

She looked down to see Devyn sitting by her legs. A wave of relief washed through her. She was gone from that awful place now.

Devyn reached over and handed her a glass of water. The woman guided Brittany up so she could drink it. As Brittany practically inhaled the liquid, Devyn dabbed a cloth across the girl's forehead. Brittany's pale hands shook as she dumped the water down her throat. After a moment she choked, roughly coughing on the contents of the glass.

"Slow down, dear. There's plenty more where that came from."

"Sorry," the blonde mumbled.

Brittany had yet to notice the figure leaning against the door frame with her arms crossed. Santana had been standing there long enough to see her new addition practically have a seizure while screaming at the top of her lungs, then wake up and calm herself like nothing happened. It baffled the brunette. She watched as the girl inhaled water like it would be her last drink. Santana had an idea of what kind of conditions she'd probably been in prior to her arrival here, but she'd never actually come into contact with a victim of said conditions. Honestly, she found Brittany's resilience to break after coming from that kind of place rather fascinating. And for a brief moment, she silently wondered how far she could push the girl.

Santana shifted as the blonde put down her water glass. The movement obviously caught her eye because Brittany's head shot up and her eyes went wide.

Brittany's body was frozen. She knew she should stand up and bow to her new owner, but her muscles wouldn't allow it. She was like a deer in headlights.

Devyn turned her head, following the girl's line of sight. She sighed and casually bowed her head to Santana, who nodded in return. Brittany watched as the intimidating, raven haired woman shifted her gaze from her head servant back to her. They made eye contact for the first time since the incident in the alley, but even then they had been relatively far apart. It was only now that Brittany got a good look at the woman's eyes. They were dark, almost black, with a certain hardness to them. The way they were staring at her made her uneasy, like they were piercing through her. Brittany wanted so badly to look away, but she couldn't bring herself to. Though her eyes were fierce, they were also captivating.

Without breaking eye contact, Santana spoke up. "How is the girl doing?"

Brittany didn't detect even a hint of concern in her voice. The woman's tone made her feel like an object waiting to be repaired, and Santana was simply curious as to when her object will be available to use again. And if that wasn't hint enough, the fact that Santana wouldn't address her directly really showed Brittany what her place was in this house. She just hoped that her time here wouldn't be as bad as before.

Devyn stood up and faced Santana while speaking to her. "Better, Miss Lopez. She has a high fever but as you can see, she's awake, which is an improvement."

Santana studied Brittany for a moment longer before looking at Devyn. "Right. Well I want her in recovery for a week. I expect you to look after her and report her progress to me daily."

"Yes ma'am."

Brittany watched as Santana swiftly turned and exited the room without sparing another glance at her. Her new owner granted her a recovery period? While anyone else would have been relieved and thankful, Brittany felt no such appreciation. Never in her life has luck been on her side. Suspicion made its way through her mind as she thought about her new owner's intentions. Why would she need to be healthy? What exactly was in store for her? She had a pretty good idea what her purpose here was, but her physical well-being had never been a concern for her past owners. Maybe she was being prepped, like when a farmer fattens his pig so it's at its best before he slaughters it. However before her mind could wander into a vast amount of morbid possibilities, a voice addressed her.

"Are you hungry?" Devyn was looking down at her, and Brittany sensed a bit of annoyance behind her voice.

The blonde nodded. Devyn turned and left through the door to the kitchen. There was something about this head servant that made Brittany nervous. She was attentive, but not warm. Her aged face held a hard, authoritative look, while her brown eyes were filled with something different. Worry? Regret? Maybe a little bit of both. Whatever it was, it did not make Brittany feel comfortable in the slightest. An irking feeling in her stomach told her there was something so much deeper happening here.

* * *

><p>Santana couldn't help but to feel like there was something familiar about the girl. She swore she'd seen her before, but she couldn't figure out where. Maybe she used to belong to someone she knew? Whatever, it didn't matter because she owned her now, and she was the most gorgeous slave to ever pass through the doors of the Lopez mansion. A sly smile graced her lips. She couldn't wait to play with her.<p>

She cast away her pleasantly inappropriate thoughts when her phone rang. It was Puck. She swiftly answered it.

"Yeah?"

_"We have another job. Meet me outside in 5."_

"Got it." She turned on her heel and made her way to a large closet by her front door. After throwing useless items out of her way, she reached in the very back of the closet and pulled out a duffel bag. After a second of looking through it to make sure she had everything she needed, she threw it over her shoulder and headed out the door.

* * *

><p>After a full meal and a nap, Brittany awoke in her bed to the presence of Devyn sitting by her legs once again. Her fever was still in full swing, causing Brittany to bury herself further within her covers and shiver. Her muscles were stiff as she lay freezing, though her skin was burning hot.<p>

"You need to take a bath." Devyn tugged lightly at the covers wrapped around her.

Brittany lay still, allowing Devyn to pull the covers off of her shivering, fragile body. Bathing herself wasn't something she looked forward to at her old house. A "bath" consisted of a bucket of cold, dirty water and an old sponge. Sometimes she just chose to stay dirty, especially after a fresh round of lashes, because dirt burned her wounds.

She wasn't sure what to expect. The place was already an improvement, since she has access to plenty of food and a bed. She just hoped the water wasn't dirty.

Devyn escorted her to the servants bathroom. It was a relatively large room, complete with a bath and separate shower. Brittany stood at the door unsure of what to do as Devyn drew the bath. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been in a real bathtub.

"Child, are you just going to stand there or are you going to come in? And shut the door behind you."

Brittany did as she was told, and stood in the middle of the floor as Devyn undressed her. Her muscles ached as she shifted out of her clothing. She approached the tub and stepped in, hissing as her skin came in contact with the water. She bit her tongue as she sunk in. The cuts on her arms, legs, and back reacted with the heat in the most unpleasant of ways. Droplets formed at the corners of her eyes as the stinging sensation spread through her entire body. Devyn raised an eyebrow as the water began to turn a tinge of pink. Some of Brittany's freshest wounds reopened and were bleeding out.

After a few minutes of letting Brittany adjust, Devyn decided it was time to wash the girl. She grabbed a sponge and covered it in soap, and gently ran it over her shoulders and upper back. Brittany stared at the wall ahead of her with her teeth clenched, trying her hardest not to react to the pain.

Soon the stinging subsided. Brittany couldn't tell if it was because her physical pain was diminishing, or if she felt better because her old life was being washed away. She looked at Devyn, who was staring at her body with a look of confusion and disgust as she ran the sponge over the cuts and bruises on Brittany's arms and legs.

"How did you survive..." Devyn mumbled to herself. Brittany chose not to respond because honestly, even she didn't know the answer.

After the bath, Devyn dressed Brittany in fresh servants clothes. "Alright, sit here," she ordered, pointing to a chair she placed in the middle of the bathroom. Devyn brushed through blonde hair that hadn't been tended to in ages. She cut the ridiculously long hair to a manageable length. She handed Brittany a toothbrush before trimming her finger and toe nails. After finishing some final touches, the older woman stepped back to admire her work. "Good, now you don't look like a savage," and nodded in approval.

Brittany smiled a little. She felt good for the first time in a long time.

* * *

><p>The next few days were slow. Though her fever had broken and she felt much better, Brittany's exploration was limited to the kitchen, servants quarters, and servants bathroom. She ate, slept, and cleaned her old wounds. She hadn't seen her new master since the first time she came to check on her several days before, but she wasn't complaining. Having time to herself was therapeutic.<p>

The only people she saw were Devyn, Mike, and a few other servants that resided in the quarters. They were gone throughout the day, but Brittany managed to talk with them briefly in the morning and night. There was Emma, the head cleaning maid, Tina, the servant in charge of landscaping and exterior maintenance, and Kurt, Santana's personal and interior designer. Emma was nice but a bit odd, Tina was quiet but generally happy, but it was Kurt who'd taken most interest in her. She felt comfortable around him for the most part, but she was still careful about what she shared with him because frankly he seemed like a gossip.

Brittany sat in the kitchen eating a chicken sandwich while she talked with Kurt and Mike. Kurt was going on about a guy named Blaine, the Lopez family driver, while Brittany and Mike just smiled and nodded at his obvious love struck rambling. Brittany's mind was elsewhere, however, so she had trouble concentrating on the boy in front of her. As much as she'd talked with the other workers here, nobody said a word about Santana to her. She found it odd, since she was sure she had walked in on a few of them talking about the woman, but silenced as soon as Brittany had entered.

"Are you guys even listening?" Kurt accused, looking back and forth at the both of them.

Mike nodded unconvincingly but Brittany continued to think. "What is Miss Santana like?" she thought aloud.

Kurt and Mike looked at each other knowingly, then back at her. Neither really knew what to say. Kurt spoke up first. "Why do you want to know, Britt?"

"It's just...nobody will talk about her. Around me, at least. It's weird," she shrugged.

Kurt sighed. "Well what do you want to know?"

"I don't know. Is she nice?"

"She has her moments. She's good to most of us, as long as she's had a good day and we haven't gotten in her way."

Brittany nodded. That sounded alright. But curiosity got the best of her. "Who is she not nice to?"

Kurt threw on an obviously fake confused face. "Huh?"

"You said she is good to most of you. Who is she not nice to?" Brittany was getting a little frustrated. They were both clearly trying to avoid answering her. Mike just stayed silent and Kurt played stupid. It was getting old.

She stared at Kurt, who suddenly found the cuff of his blazer very interesting. Finally, she threw down her sandwich. "Why won't anyone answer me?" It was the first time she'd raised her voice, making both of them jump.

"I...I uh...well," Mike began. "Santana has...some issues."

Kurt cut in. "There was an issue with her last personal servant."

Brittany's brow furrowed. She had a feeling she was going to regret asking, but she needed to know. "What kind of issues?"

Mike looked down while Kurt continued. "There was an incident a few years ago. Santana got her first personal servant and it didn't go too well. The poor girl ended up in the hospital not long after." Kurt looked up to try to read Brittany's face, but it was expressionless.

Brittany swallowed a sudden lump in her throat. "Go on."

"Kurt, I don't think we should-" Mike warned, but Kurt cut him off.

"Nonsense. She has a right to know." He waved his hand dismissively, then leaned in a bit and hushed his voice. "When Santana was 17, her dad thought it'd be a good idea to get her a personal slave. The girl was about Santana's age, and quite good looking, and that's coming from me." He chuckled a little, then continued. "As you've seen, Santana isn't too good with controlling herself. A few of us would hear screams from Santana's quarters every so often. We just had to ignore them." Kurt looked down at his hands. "One night, Santana got into a fight with... well, she just got really angry, and took it out on her girl. We heard a struggle upstairs, and when Devyn finally went to investigate, she found the girl laying on the floor, beaten and unconscious, while Santana was in her bedroom corner, _crying_." Kurt whispered the last part.

Brittany's throat was dry. Her stomach hurt like she had just been gutted. The more she let the words sink in, the more nauseous she felt. She prayed she wouldn't share the same fate. What could the girl have done to make Santana so angry? She couldn't risk making the same mistakes. So she asked. "W-What happened?"

Kurt sat up again and shrugged. "Not sure. Rumor says Santana had been taking advantage of the poor girl and she finally stood up for herself. It's a shame, really."

"What's a shame?"

It was her. That voice. Brittany had only heard it a few times so far, but she'd know it from anywhere. She jumped up from her stool to face the source of the voice. Kurt seemed to be just as startled, since he jumped up as well.

"I-It's a shame, that uh, that Blaine's work shifts are different from mine. Because, you know, I'd like to spend more time with him," Kurt stuttered a bit, but Santana didn't seem to notice. In fact, she seemed to take this into consideration. Brittany was impressed how quick on his feet Kurt was. He must do this a lot.

"Noted," Santana hummed as she walked further inside the kitchen.

"Is there something I can make you, Miss?" Mike asked cautiously, though it seemed Santana was in a fairly acceptable mood.

"No, no, I'm fine. I'm actually here for Brittany," she said as she looked straight at the blonde.

Brittany went numb. After just hearing the horror story of the girl who worked in her position before her, the last place she wanted to be was with Santana. A million thoughts rushed through her brain so quickly that she started to get a headache. She couldn't tear her eyes away from her master, whose face was slowly creasing into an unpleasant expression. Had she messed up already? Out of the corner of her eye she saw Mike and Kurt staring at her as well. Then she felt it. Her back came in contact with the wall. She had been backing up. Even her feet knew she shouldn't go with Santana.

Santana stared at the girl who'd cowered against the kitchen wall at her calling, then she looked at Kurt, who was fidgeting nervously with his tailored silver blazer. She sighed audibly and clenched her fists. "What did you tell her, Kurt?" Her voice was a low, shaky warning. Her anger was growing fast, and the whole room knew it.

Kurt looked terrified. "N-Nothing, Miss, I-"

Santana slammed her fist down on the counter-top. "_Don't lie to me_," she growled, but she didn't let him answer. "You told her about the girl, didn't you?" Kurt didn't move a muscle. He was frozen. "Didn't you!" she yelled at his lack of response.

Everyone jumped at her tone. There was so much tension in the air, no one knowing what Santana's next move would be. She was a ticking time bomb.

Santana closed her eyes and rubbed her temples, trying to calm herself a bit. "Kurt, I told you what would happen if I caught you with your nose where it doesn't belong _again_," she began.

Kurt took a step back. "No, no. Please, Miss, I didn't mean to. She just- I just-"

Brittany finally found her footing. She stepped forward a little. "Don't, please." Her voice was small and pleading. Santana's eyes shot open at the sound. "I made him tell me. It's not his fault. Please, Miss, don't punish him. It was me."

Brittany wasn't sure why she said it. Maybe it was because she's never had anyone to look out for her, and maybe by doing this, she could gain Kurt's trust. She had a feeling she'd need all the help she could get down the road. The servants at her old place didn't even spare a glance at her. Brittany remembered how that felt: pleading for help, any help, and not one person acknowledging her existence. It could be different here, if she played her cards right. Even if that meant accepting punishment on behalf of someone else.

She watched as Santana's eyes studied her, a look of confusion and curiosity momentarily gracing her defined features. But hardness took over again only seconds later. The silence was growing too much to bear as three people stood, anxiously awaiting any sort of reaction from their respective master.

Finally, she cleared her throat. "Kurt, get out of my sight," she spat, only sparing a brief, yet unforgiving glare at him.

He merely nodded and began to back away, until he heard her speak again.

"And you can forget about seeing your little boy toy any time soon. You'll be lucky if I even keep him around."

Out of the corner of her eye, Brittany watched as his face fell in defeat. She felt bad, but she'd done all she could do for him at this point.

"And you." Santana's threatening tone rang in her ears, snapping her attention back. "You come with me. Now."

Brittany felt like crying. She had no idea what was going to happen. She wanted Santana to give her a warning, considering this was her first week here, but her logic didn't allow her to get her hopes up. Luck has never been on her side. She dropped her head and obediently followed the other woman out of the kitchen.

* * *

><p>They made their way through the corridors and up the stairs, to an open door at the end of the upstairs wing. Santana entered first, with Brittany close behind. The walls of the room were black. Brittany took a guess that they were in Santana's room, and decided she was right when she laid eyes on a large bed with black and red sheets, surrounded by tied up bed curtains. She stopped when she was a few feet inside, and Santana turned to shut the door.<p>

Brittany winced as the door closed behind her. Though she's never seen this room before, she was too scared to look around. Her hands trembled, so she kept them latched to each other tightly behind her back. On instinct, she found a spot on the floor and focused on it. Hugo never let her make eye contact with him. It had taken her a while to get used to concentrating on one spot without wavering, but after several strikes from him, she mastered it. It was like second nature to her now.

"On your knees," Santana ordered as she walked past the girl.

Brittany dropped to the floor immediately, her knees slightly burning from the sudden rough contact with the carpet. She kept her eyes in her selected spot.

Silence infected the room. She wanted to see what was going on, what Santana was doing. But she couldn't. She was too afraid. Brittany knew she'd already overstepped moments ago in the kitchen, so she didn't _dare_ push Santana any further.

"Look at me."

She wanted to obey, she really did. Because she knew Santana would be angry if she didn't. But she couldn't lift her head. It felt too heavy. She was weighed down by fear and her conditioning to keep her eyes elsewhere.

She heard movement. Santana was getting closer. Her hands squeezed tighter together behind her, causing her knuckles to turn white.

"I said, _look_ at me." Santana's voice grew louder and more agitated.

But she still couldn't. Her eyes stung with tears and she braced herself for a blow. Santana's feet came into view, and Brittany clamped her eyes shut. She knew it would come. All she had to do was sit through it, and hopefully it would be over soon. Hopefully.

But it never came. Instead of the hand she was sure to feel across her face, she felt a knuckle dig into the bottom of her chin, forcefully pulling her head upwards. Maybe Santana just needed a better angle. Brittany kept her eyes shut.

The knuckle disappeared once her head was up, and the strong presence seemed to have backed away. Slowly, she peeked through one eye, and then the other, to see Santana leaning against a large, wooden desk with her arms crossed. The scowl from her face wasn't gone, but she didn't seem to be as fired up. She just might be in luck this time.

"Who _the fuck_ do you think you are?" Santana suddenly challenged.

Was she supposed to answer that? It did sound like a question. "N-No one, I-"

"How dare you step in and defend him, especially when he _clearly_ has no respect for you." Her words were like venom. It was no wonder everyone feared her.

Brittany cocked her head slightly at this. No respect? He told her that story because she deserved to hear it...right?

"He told you that to scare you," Santana stated lowly, as if reading Brittany's mind. "Did it work?"

_Yes_. Brittany couldn't bring herself to answer that out loud. She locked with Santana's eyes. Her eyes were such a dark brown, they were almost black. It fit so well with her; fierce and intimidating. The blackness seemed to want to swallow her whole. They started to grow bigger. It took a few seconds for Brittany to realize it was because Santana was approaching her again.

"Are you scared?" she asked again as she continued to take a few steps towards Brittany.

"Yes," Brittany quietly admitted. She didn't think Santana expected it, because she looked a bit surprised at the blonde's blatant admission. Brittany watched a few emotions cross the woman's face. Cockiness, lust, pride, and another one she couldn't identify. She hadn't seen that particular look before. Was it...disappointment?

Before Brittany could think much more into it, Santana's movements caught her attention again. Brittany's eyes widened as she watched Santana's hands move to the button on her pants, and snapped them open. "Good," Santana said as she slowly lowered the zipper, "You should be."

Brittany didn't know what to do. She could try running, but she was pretty sure Santana would catch her before she even got to her feet. No, she couldn't run. That wouldn't make her time here any easier. Besides, how bad could it be? Santana was a girl, so at least she wouldn't have to endure the _same kind_ of violation a man would bring, right?

"Give me your hand," Santana demanded, and stuck out her own hand expectantly. Brittany slowly pulled her trembling right hand from behind her back. Santana grabbed her wrist firmly, bringing the blonde's hand palm-first to her slightly exposed crotch.

_Wrong_. Brittany tried to snatch her hand away in shock as it made impact with the bulge under Santana's thin boxer-briefs. Now _that_ wasn't something Brittany was expecting. Santana smirked as she tightened her grip on the girl's wrist, using her hand to rub her member. At first Brittany thought it could be a strap-on. Strange, but not totally unlikely. It wasn't until she felt it become harder that she fully understood what she was dealing with.

As fast as realization hit, panic struck just as quick. Tears started pouring out of Brittany's eyes. She couldn't control them, they just came. She felt like she was going to vomit. She'd spent the last six months of her life living in fear of a man dominating her, penetrating her against her will. She'd talked herself into being a little more comfortable these past few days, convincing herself that she was with a woman now, and she hoped it meant less pain for her. But oh, how she was wrong. She's right back in the same situation she'd just come from: the sex slave of an overly aggressive pervert. Except this one had a bigger dick.

"How's that for a surprise?" Santana chuckled throatily, suppressing a moan at the feeling of the beautiful girl's hand touching her.

"Please..." it was all Brittany could get out. She didn't want to live this life again. Her sobs started to shake her whole body. It obviously wasn't the reaction Santana was expecting, because she released the pale hand and stepped back. Brittany almost didn't notice, as she was lost in her own desperate thoughts.

"Stop it." It was meant as a demand, but Santana's voice cracked.

Brittany heard the sound of a quick zipper and eventually managed to look up at her master. To say she was a bit surprised at what she saw was an understatement. Santana was standing a few feet away from her, arms crossed and looking upset. But it wasn't angry-upset. It was more nervous and embarrassed. But why?

Santana's eyes drifted to Brittany's. Tears were still streaming down Brittany's face, but the wracking sobs had subsided. "Just stop crying," Santana tried again, this time quieter.

Brittany wanted to question Santana's sudden change of demeanor, but frankly, she didn't care. She just wanted out. If she could just escape today without being harmed, that would be okay with her. A wave of guilt tried to push it's way through her, but she pushed it right back. Brittany remembered a time where she used to care more about other people than she did herself, but that sort of thinking was drained out of her when she was forced to switch into survival mode. Sure, it had peeked back through with Kurt, but she still had selfish motives for what she did. And with Santana throwing her right back into the fire, why should she care about what Santana was feeling?

Santana cleared her throat and straighted up again. Her authoritative look was back as she took a few steps back towards Brittany, who's tears were slowly ceasing. She didn't get as close as she was before, and Brittany noticed her hesitance. But she thanked it more than she questioned it.

"Gossip isn't something I take lightly around here. I don't want to find out you ran your mouth to anyone."

Brittany nodded quickly.

Santana sighed and broke eye contact. "Good. You start work tomorrow. I want you here when I rise in the morning," she said as she walked past Brittany towards the bathroom connected to her bedroom, "Now get out."

Brittany wasted no time getting to her feet, bowing to a retreating Santana, and making her way out of the room, leaving Santana alone once again.

* * *

><p><strong>I'm sure you're wondering what's going through Santana's mind. Don't worry, the next chapter will be very Santana-heavy. Stay tuned!<strong>


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